Standing in the doorway was Shin Ling.
She looked like she'd stepped out of a scene written for chaos. Her gown was scarlet silk that caught the chandelier's light and burned like fire. Her hair spilled over one shoulder, her painted lips curved in a knowing smirk.
"Forgive my intrusion," she purred, her tone honeyed but cold. "I was told dinner was still going on. I do hope I'm not… interrupting."
A gasp rippled down the table.
Lihua's expression drained of color. "Shin?" she whispered, horrified.
Meilin's fork froze mid-air. Even the servants looked paralyzed.
Lihyun's heart thundered. He looked as if a million things had befallen him. He seemed as if he had forgotten how to breathe.
He pushed back his chair instinctively, but one look from his father—icy and sharp—rooted him to his seat.
Mr. Weiming Shulong's face was thunder. "Who permitted you into my home?" he asked, his voice low but dangerous.
Shin Ling tilted her head, smiling sweetly. "Your son did. He has been begging me to come and talk to him, come and meet him for days now. Or has he conveniently forgotten?"
The silence was absolute.
Lihyun's eyes went wide—part fury, part panic. He could almost feel his father's wrath crawling toward him like a slow storm. But all he wanted was to be next to Shin. To hold her in his arms. To tell her that he loved her and that he would do anything to have her back.
Lihua's voice cracked slightly as she tried to salvage the situation. " Shin dear, this is neither the time nor the place—"
But Shin Ling ignored her completely. Her gaze locked onto Lily, who was sitting perfectly still, hands folded in her lap.
"So you're the fiancée," Shin Ling said, her tone dripping with disdain. "You look… younger than I expected." She let out a mocking laugh.
Lily blinked once, her lashes lowering gracefully. Her voice was soft but precise.
"And you must be the interruption everyone was waiting for."
A sharp inhale ran down the table.
Lifen's eyes widened, Meilin stifled a gasp, and even the violinist stopped pretending to play.
Lihyun set down his glass, the sound of crystal against wood loud in the stillness. "That's enough," he said quietly—though his tone carried a dangerous edge, not toward Shin Ling, but toward Lily.
Lily met his gaze evenly. "I was only returning the courtesy."
Her calm was maddening. She didn't tremble. She didn't avert her gaze. And that, somehow, made Lihyun's pulse spike with something between anger and confusion.
Weiming rose slowly, each movement deliberate. "Miss Shin Ling," he said, "you have thirty seconds to remove yourself from my house before I have security do it for you."
For the first time, Shin Ling faltered. Her lips parted, eyes darting toward Lihyun. "You're really going to let him talk to me like that?"
Lihyun swallowed, caught between two burning gazes—his father's and hers.
Lihua stood abruptly, her voice trembling but kind. "Lihyun, escort her out. Now."
Lihyun's eyes flitted toward Lily—who still hadn't said another word. She only tilted her head slightly, as if observing how he would handle this like a test piece in a game she'd already started.
He rose slowly, exhaling through his teeth. "Come on," he muttered to Shin Ling. "Let's talk outside."
As he passed Lily, something like guilt pulsed deep inside him. However wretched this engagement was and howmuch ever he didn't like Lily. She didn't deserve this. No girl did. No girl would like the thought of her fiance in love with another.
And though Shin Ling's red gown swept after him like a flame, the image burned in his mind wasn't of her—it was of Lily, still and composed, sipping her wine as though she'd just claimed her first victory.
The moment Lihyun reached Shin Ling, he caught her arm firmly. The touch felt searing. He had wanted to hold her for days. But in that moment he needed to be form otherwise his father would hurt Shin. And he didn't like seeing the people he loved get hurt.
"Enough," he whispered under his breath. "You've made your point Shin. Let's go."
But Shin only tilted her chin, her red lips curving. "Oh, I haven't even started."
Her voice was low, laced with something darkly triumphant. And before he could react—before his brain could even process the intent in her eyes—she leaned in.
And kissed him.
Right there.
In front of everyone.
The hall gasped as one. Chairs scraped against marble. The violin bow slipped, letting out a strangled note before silence swallowed the room whole.
The chandelier light shimmered against Shin Ling's crimson dress, making her look almost surreal—like sin in human form.
Lihyun froze, his body rigid, his mind blank. He wanted to kiss her back, to touch her. But this was wrong. All of this was so wrong. It shouldn't be this way. He pushed her away his eyes filled with a barage of emotions.... of betrayal.
Her eyes were cold and victorious. This was her way at revenge, he realised a little too late. She was out for blood from his father.
"There," she whispered, just loud enough for Mr. Weiming to hear. "Now they all know."
The world seemed to tilt.
Lihua's hand flew to her mouth. Meilin stood pale and trembling. Ming Shulong cursed under his breath while Mrs. Chen reached for her daughter's hand.
And at the head of the table, Weiming Shulong's voice thundered like an earthquake—
"Enough!"
The word cracked through the air. Even the flames in the chandelier seemed to flicker in fear.
But Lily didn't hear it.
She was staring at the two of them—Shin Ling's smug smile, Lihyun's stricken expression—and something inside her snapped into perfect, icy clarity.
No.
She was not going to be humiliated.
Not here.
Not tonight.
Lily could no longer control her tears. The hurt and tears behind the mask were threatening to spill. This night had gone terribly wrong. The audacity for her own fiance to humiliated her like this. It was unbearable. Her heart was in pieces.
Her lips trembled. Her eyes glossed over. When she looked down, her shoulders shook as tears slipped down her cheeks. The perfect image of the strong girl shattered in that moment..
"Lily…" Han's voice cracked as he shot up, rushing to her side. "Lily, hey—hey, it's okay." He crouched beside her, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders.
Lihua was next. "My dear child, oh heavens, please don't cry." Her voice was frantic, her face stricken with guilt.
Meilin hurried over too, glaring at her brother. "Gege, how could you?" she mouthed harshly.
Even Ming Shulong had risen, muttering to his brother, Weiming Shulong, "This is a disaster."
And through it all, Lily cried her heart out, her tears soft and shimmering in the chandelier light, her voice barely a whisper.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to cause trouble," she said, every word trembling with restrained pain.
The sympathy in the room turned like a tide.
Every eye that had once been curious now turned accusingly toward Lihyun and Shin.
Shin Ling's victorious smirk faltered. She'd meant to ruin Lily—but somehow, Lily had turned herself into the fragile, blameless victim everyone wanted to protect.
Lihua's voice broke again. "You've humiliated her… humiliated us," she said to Lihyun and Shin, her eyes glassy with disappointment.
Weiming said nothing, but his silence was worse than any words. It was the silence of judgment—cold and final.
Finally, Shin Ling straightened, her poise cracking. "You all act so holy," she spat. "But you have no idea what's real between us."
Lihyun's jaw clenched. "Shin, stop."
But she only laughed bitterly and turned toward the door. "Enjoy your perfect little family dinner," she said, before sweeping out of the hall like a red storm—her heels clicking against marble, her perfume trailing behind her like smoke.
The doors slammed shut.
The silence that followed was unbearable.
Lihyun stood there—frozen, hollow, his face alive with emotions he couldn't place.
Shame.
Anger.
Confusion.
Guilt.
Betrayal.
His gaze flicked toward Lily—sitting there between Han and his mother, eyes shimmering, tears still falling silently.
And in that moment, for the first time, he couldn't tell who was actually the villain.